Navigating Change

Proponents of school reform, from all sides of the education debate,
would like to see schools transformed into cultures hospitable to
widespread learning and leadership. Such schools would foster, in
students and adults alike, a disposition toward independent,
insatiable, lifelong learning. But how to “walk the talk”?
How to move in the real world of masking tape and worksheets toward
this ambitious vision?

I believe the first step in reforming the learning experiences of
young people is to reform the learning experiences of the adults
responsible for young people’s education. As Albert Schweitzer
said: “Example is not the main thing in influencing others.
It’s the only thing.”

I once helped put together an unusual activity on shared leadership
and decisionmaking for a group of educators. We enlisted a sturdy
sailing schooner, Bowdoin, which was then under the command of
the Hurricane Island Outward Bound School in Maine. Teams consisting of
teachers, principals, and superintendents representing school districts
from throughout Massachusetts went to Boston Harbor and shipped aboard
for the day.

While the vessel was tied to the dock, the Outward Bound crew
demonstrated how to get the many sails up and the anchor down, where
the charts were stowed, how to read the compass, and how to run the
engine. The brief orientation attended to, we then headed into Boston
Harbor and abruptly dropped both sails and anchor. Our mission for the
day, we were instructed, was to sail the schooner back to the
Charlestown Naval Yard by 4 p.m. Then the crew went below into the
cabin, and the learning began.

How does a group
of 60 people, possessing abundant egos and varied backgrounds,
get organized and fulfill a very complex task?

How does a group of 60 people, largely unacquainted, possessing
abundant egos and varied backgrounds, get organized and fulfill a very
complex task? Who does what? Who leads? Who follows? Who watches?
Meanwhile, tugboats blasted, destroyers powered close by, recreational
vessels buzzed around us, and jetliners, landing at Logan Airport,
skimmed over the Bowdoin’s masts.

The pressure was on. The boatload of educators was at-risk. A
high-stakes test. Rather like a school.

After a prolonged period that could only be described as chaos, the
suggestion was offered by a teacher that we might find out who on board
remembered any of our dockside instructions. Had anyone been listening?
Could anyone recall, for instance, in what order the five sails were to
be raised? Was the anchor to be raised before or after the sails? Next
we took inventory of our collective sailing experiences. Did anyone
know how to read a nautical chart? Could anyone relate the chart to the
compass and actually navigate? Was anyone familiar with the
“rules of the road” with respect to other vessels? Did
anyone know how to sail? And so it went. After an hour or so,
chaos slowly began to give way to some heady and hearty conversation,
even collaboration.

As it turned out, an elementary teacher was teaching a unit on map
and chart reading, and a high school teacher who raced sailing dinghies
was well acquainted with “right of way.” Another teacher
had recently been on a windjammer and taken several turns at the
helm.

So, as most of the principals and central-office officials stood by,
observed, and received orders, the teachers took over. The sails were
raised, and then the anchor. And a small band of public school
teachers, providing clear leadership and deft seamanship, brought the
Bowdoin and its occupants safely into the dock at the naval
yard. It was 4 p.m.

Our little band of educators then spent the next several hours in
groups, reflecting on our passage and what we had learned from it about
shared leadership in schools. We talked about whether it was rank (like
“superintendent”) that denoted special expertise in, say,
navigation, or whether it was prior experience, or having listened
during the instructions and being able to remember, or possessing the
personal authority to be taken seriously. Well into the dark hours, the
cabin brightened by the glow of the ship’s kerosene lantern, we
considered how our experience sailing the Bowdoin back into port
resembled the work we do in schools to promote youngsters’
learning. Finally, before we set out for home, we brainstormed, in
light of our day on Boston Harbor, about how each team would now go
about its work.

One incontrovertible piece of learning from the day was that you
don’t have to be or become a principal or a superintendent in
order to influence the course of a vessel—or a
school.

One incontrovertible piece of learning from the day was that you
don’t have to be or become a principal or a superintendent in
order to influence the course of a vessel—or a school. Indeed,
rank in the hierarchy has little relevance when it comes to
school-based reform. Reformers are those who know something about the
organization, have a vision leading to a better way, can enlist others
in that vision, and can mine the gold of everyone’s craft
knowledge to discover ways to move toward that vision. Frank McCourt,
the author of Angela’s Ashes and a former classroom
teacher, suggests: “Ask the teachers—for a change.
They’re on the front lines. Forget the bureaucrats and
politicians and statisticians. Ask the teachers. They know the daily
drama of the classroom, a drama beyond measurement.”

There was another bit of learning from that day on the
Bowdoin. As part of our assessment of teacher productivity in
our profession, the group suggested that we ask: “Is the real
teacher showing up? Is all of the teacher showing up, as it did
on the Bowdoin, or is much of the whole left at home each
morning?” We are all capable of our best and our worst. Teachers
who give their best most of the time offer schools, in addition to
classroom instruction, their leadership. It is in teachers’
hands, every bit as much as it is in the hands of the principal and
central office, that possibilities for school-based reform reside.

Indeed, taking a leadership role to improve a school lies at the
heart of what it means to be a professional. There is no shortage of
opportunities for every teacher to demonstrate professionalism by
leading a school, a few tough steps at a time, toward improvement.

With increasing frequency these days, teachers are evaluated on the
basis of how successful they are in getting their students’ test
scores to rise. Perhaps a more fundamental criterion would be to
examine how helpful teachers are, as members of the school community,
in providing leadership that will improve the culture of the school and
make it hospitable to everyone’s learning. For, as we know, more
than anything else, it is the culture of the school that determines the
achievement of teacher and student alike.

Our day at sea aboard the Bowdoin vividly manifests the
untapped potential and power of teacher-leaders. Yet the culture of
most schools and school systems provides precious little support for
teacher leadership. Few teachers who take the initiative to lead are
welcomed by fellow teachers or administrators. The teacher who steps in
and assumes leadership, and distinguishes himself or herself from the
others, violates a basic taboo of many schools and districts—and
consequently pays a dear price.

Yet when teachers’ leadership is withheld or rejected, there
are incalculable costs to both teacher and school. Without such
leadership, all too few vessels get their sails up, get their anchors
raised, and make it safely into port. And the life of a teacher becomes
limited to the classroom—a rich and crucial life to be sure, but
not enough for most teachers and most schools.

If the purpose of school is to promote learning and leadership, a
good school should be more like a boat. There is much to learn at
sea.

Notice: We recently upgraded our comments. (Learn more here.) If you are logged in as a subscriber or registered user and already have a Display Name on edweek.org, you can post comments. If you do not already have a Display Name, please create one here.

Ground Rules for Posting
We encourage lively debate, but please be respectful of others. Profanity and personal attacks are prohibited. By commenting, you are agreeing to abide by our user agreement.
All comments are public.